Punch Because You Care
by Missus Cupcake
Summary: Strong language, hints of intercourse. When Scout reveals his strange quirk in bed to Engineer, things go haywire for the Bostonian. Will Sniper be the one to finally help Scout's strange kink come into frutation, or is he setting himself up for disaster?
1. Chapter 1

Based on a lovely comic by Icky, in which the Scout expresses his quirks in bed to a dumbfounded Engineer.

~*~

"D-do it, man. Fucking do it!"

The hit made a very noticeable sound, bouncing off the walls of the small room. Their bodies moved awkwardly together, the Sniper too tall and the Scout too short. They didn't match up very well at all, bodies and personality, and yet when the younger man had come into the sniping nest and practically begged for a shag (Scout would deny any begging had occurred), Sniper couldn't say no. Sure, it was awkward at first. Sniper was pretty sure that Scout and the Engineer were an item. No matter, he didn't muddle in personal affairs. If they were having a falling out or something, then he would comfort Scout the best way he knew how: sex.

He had to admit, though, the request to be hit was extremely odd. But, again, Sniper wasn't one to judge. If the little prick wanted him to hit him, then he would bloody well hit him. Scout squirmed under him as he made a feeble attempt to reciprocate by sucking on his collarbone.

"Again… Make me bleed, dude, c'mon!"

This hit came quicker than the last and connected squarely with his nose. Scout heard something crack and then, through the blossoming pain, felt the warm blood trickle down his upper lip. He licked it with a satisfied smirk. Fuck yeah. This is what he'd been missing; this was that excitement that he had wanted with his romps in the hay with Engineer. But the bastard wouldn't hit him. He was too good for that, he had beautiful pale skin, and perfection shouldn't be marred, and blah blah blah! Fuck, just thinking about Engie not putting out was pissing him off. What, was he not good enough? Was he not worth it? Well, fuck you, Hardhat… fuck you.

"Bite me. Bite me hard! I don't want no fucking love-mark, pally, I want this fucker to scar!"

Yes! Fucking take that, Hardhat! Oh, God, that felt good. As the Sniper bit into Scout's shoulder, he moved his teeth back and forth to make sure that he cut into the skin. So now Scout's nose and his shoulder were bleeding, but it wasn't enough. He desperately searched for something more, for something else do to. Light blue eyes darted around the room. He saw that they had already taken their clothes off, this proven by: a) the pile of blue clothing that was lying next to the window, and b) the obvious fact that they were ass naked on Sniper's cot. For a moment, Scout considered making Sniper get his bat to use, since it was lying with his other weapons on the clothes pile, but that may be a bit overboard even for him. What else… something to prove to the Engineer that punching the guy who you have sex with is perfectly healthy. He was coming to the Sniper for Chrissake, isn't that enough of a hint?

"Punch me. I want a fucking black eye this time."

"Hold on, you do something for me, first."

"Eh? Oh…"

… *That*. Fuck, he didn't want to suck cock tonight, especially not Sniper's. The guy smelled weird, like whatever cologne he was wearing had gone bad. He tasted bad, too, but Scout couldn't pinpoint the taste. Maybe like sweat and dirt. Yeah… sweat and dirt. Fucking gross. He liked Hardhat's smell better; he didn't wear cologne, so he smelled like oil and hay. He liked Hardhat's taste a hell lot better too.

"Scout."

Fuck.

"Y—Yeah, yeah, man… Sorry. I guess I owe ya, huh…"

Scout looked up at that fucking horse dong and grimaced. No way was he sucking that when his back was on the floor. Without saying anything, he tugged Sniper down on top of him and tried feebly to move both their masses so that he would be on top. Thankfully, Sniper got the hint and did Scout a favor by rolling over. Scout sighed as he positioned himself and closed his eyes, thrusting himself at Sniper to get it over with quickly. He bobbed his head up and down, up and down, over and over. Fuck, he felt gay. He always felt gay when he gave head. Not when he was fucking someone or getting fucked, oh hell no, just when he gave head. He was weird that way.

"M—Merde…"

…

What?

Scout stopped suddenly, eyes tracing up Sniper's body in curiosity. Face red and eyes half-closed in pleasure, he looked every bit like a Sniper. But that word… that was a fucking frog word, wasn't it? Then that meant… oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK. Scout flung himself off of 'Sniper' and reached desperately for his bat, but he was grabbed by the neck and shoved into the cot. A knee was placed firmly into his back despite his struggling. Sweat gathered on his forehead and shoulders, now not from stimulation but from fear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw red smoke materialize as the Sniper disguise was shed, revealing that sick toothy grin of the Spy.

"Fuck you, man! Fuck you!"

"I s'ink not."


	2. Chapter 2

Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no, NO! This was bad, this was really, really bad. What was supposed to be an escape from Hardhat's oppression (is it so hard to punch a guy during sex? Really.) was quickly turning into a very dangerous situation. Scout struggled against the knee in his back. His brain shut down for a moment. He had never been stabbed in the back by the RED Spy, never had to feel cold metal splitting his skin there and making him bleed. All at once his brain began to work again. Fuck, he didn't want to be stabbed! He wasn't going to get backstabbed, not now! Not here and now, no fucking way. What… what would Hardhat think if he came up here to see a lifeless Scout corpse?

I'm not cheating on you, Hardhat. I swear to fucking God I'm not cheating on you.

I just wanted you to punch me.

Oh, how stupid that sounded.

Suddenly a sharp pain presented itself in his neck. Ow, what the fuck? The Spy was biting down hard into his neck, hard enough for blood to draw. Scout groaned, not really understanding anything. Why was the Spy biting him? Ow, fuck, and scratching him… Wait, Spies can take off their gloves? Scout had always thought that those were glued onto their hands or some crazy shit like---Ooow, fuck!

"Ngh…! F—fucker!"

Fucking don't bite his ear, fucking French idiot, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck!

"Ah!"

What? Wait, what? Scout brought a hand up to feel the side of his face, now drenched in warm liquid—blood, stupid—and painful as hell, but the Spy lent all his weight forward and came down onto the Scout's arm with his hand, blocking him.

"What the—! What'd you do? What'd you do, you fucking faggot?!"

Instead of being civil and answering him, the Spy decided to be an asshole and turn Scout onto his back before pinning him down again. One hand firmly on his chest and his whole body straddling the younger man, the Spy seemed oddly at home in this position. How many people had he tortured like this? Fucking cocksucker.

It was hard to hear out of his ear now, blood was running into it when he was in this position and it was the fucking WORST feeling ever because he couldn't move to fix it. But he could still hear the Spy chuckle darkly before he punched Scout in the eye. And again, and again, and again…

He couldn't see out of that eye now. He couldn't fucking see out of his own damn eye and it was all his fault and fuck, fuck… Hardhat. Come and save him, Hardhat. Be a fucking mind-reader for once and come save him. There's a Spah, for Chrissake, aren't you supposed to have a sixth sense for those guys? Fucking help, Hardhat…

His cheeks were all wet with his tears now. Aw, fuck…

"Come now, Cher. Would you prefer eef I deesguised as your preceece 'Ard'at?" The Spy's voice kicked Scout's brain into working again. Through the venom in his voice there was a mocking tone of pity that sent Scout over the edge.

"I'm gonna headbutt'cha!"

It probably wasn't the best idea to actually announce what he was about to do, but Scout didn't care. It seemed appropriate and fuck the guy who disagreed with him. He took the opportunity that he was given when the Spy looked down in mild confusion to rise up on his arms the best that he could and ram his head into the Spy's face. The resulting sound was a horrible crack that left Scout extremely satisfied. But before he could get caught up celebrating in a job well done, he remembered to lunge for his bat. Scout's hand wrapped tightly around the cool metal surface before swinging violently at the Spy. It wasn't until the blow had connected with Spy's face that Scout realized that he had actually grabbed the barrel of his scattergun by mistake. Damnit! Couldn't do anything when he was flustered. Fuck, his eyes were wet and he couldn't hear and he couldn't see and FUCK TURN THE GUN AROUND HE HAS HIS KNIFE!

The familiar crack of Scout's gun went off, and the Spy slumped down in front of him, dead. With the sudden silence, Scout heard how fast his breathing was, and he bet that his pulse was way above average. Fuck… fuck.

Very slowly, Scout began to dress again. The undies and pants were easy, and he already had his socks on. The shirt hurt, though, with all the bites and scratches and fuck, fuck, his ear… oh God, he bit off a chunk of Scout's ear… fuck…

He hated to admit it, but he had to go see Medic. Maybe the doctor would be kind enough to assist in disposing of a body, as well.

He could only hope.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Scout a long time before he actually knocked on the door to Medic's office. He felt pathetic, with scratches and bites and blood covering his body, and his puffy swollen eye, and his still-bleeding ear. Fuck, he felt like a dumbass. King Dumbass… Oh, wait, what was that one that Soldier barked at him the other day? King Shit of Turd Mountain? Yeah… that felt real accurate at the moment.

Finally, Scout knocked on the door to the clinic. Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass! He shouldn't be here; he should be in bed… maybe in bed with Hardhat. But either way, he should be in bed; he shouldn't have been upstairs looking for Sniper. Finding that damn RED Spy was his own damn fault.

Fuck.

"Come in, and danke for knocking," the Medic's voice came from the clinic, and Scout took a breath before entering to get his courage up. He had to put on a brave face—he was Scout after all. Cocky bastard. Heh… yeah. Okay, there, asshole mode activated, go go go!

Scout opened the door and poked his head in before he actually stepped into the clinic. It was surprisingly bright inside because the lights were turned on. But how come? It had to be at least one in the morning. Fuck… maybe Medic WAS busy with something and Scout really shouldn't have come in the first place. Damnit. Brilliant fucking timing as always, Scout.

"At first," the Medic seemed to be talking to himself or at least speaking to Scout regardless of the boy actually listening, "I zought it vas Scout coming in zhe middle of zhe nacht, but zince you auctually knocked… Scout! My, my, it is you, I apolo—Mein Gott, vhat happened to you?"

Yeah, that's right, I finally come to you for help and I'm fucking NICE about it and you don't even fucking care that I… oh… you DO care… fucking bipolar doctor…

"I… er… ran into a Spy, Dawk…" Scout admitted as he watched the Medic walk towards him, all business and discipline in his steps. Long, gloved fingers began to prod at the Scout's face, running over the bruises and cuts in a surprisingly gentle way. That felt kinda nice, Dawk… Ow!

"Hey—whadder'ya doing?" Scout demanded as his neck was turned sharply to the side and his chin was turned downwards.

"I am looking at yoah ear, Scout… How did a Spy get a hold of you? You zhould have been too fast for him, ja?" Crap, the Medic's Suspicious Button had been pushed, and Scout had no way out of this one. But… fuck, it was embarrassing! First of all he was going to go see Sniper of all people… well… 'Of all people' was probably the wrong way to say it; the guy was almost as sexually active as Scout was. But still, going to a cranky, only-showers-when-it-rains-Aussie was pretty fucking lame, even for Scout. Second of all, it wasn't Sniper it was a FUCKING SPY.

Fuck… God fucking damnit. He didn't want to tell Medic, who would anyway?

"Scout? Vhere vas zhe Spy? Not in ouah base, I hope."

"Er, sorry, Dawk… Yeah, he was in the base… Don't worry, I killed him."

"Vell, vhere ist he, hmm? Surely you did not just leave him somevhere to rot."

"Er…"

"… Scout…"

"Eh… About dat, Dawk… He was in the Sniper's room. Er, his 'nest'."

Scout closed his eyes and winced as the Medic held his ear gently as he looked at it properly. He heard the rustling of sheets all of a sudden and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard someone speak behind Medic.

"Oi, wotcha doin in me room, Scout?"

"S-Sniper!"

From one of the hospital beds lined up along the wall, the team's Sniper—the real Sniper—made himself known. He looked a little thinner than usual, but it was still the same old gruff-yet-ruggedly-handsome-Aussie that the team knew and loved. Medic smirked knowingly.

"I found zhe Sniper passed out in his nest seveahly dehydrated. Zhe idiot had not eaten in drei days."

"Ah, ain't a big deal, mate—"

"Do not 'mate' me, Sniper."

Scout sighed and let the two finish arguing. Medic, who was very much the fatherly figure of the group (hell, maybe even the motherly figure), and Sniper, who was like an older brother to the team, often butted heads more than they actually agreed on something.

Well, this explained why the Sniper hadn't been in his nest… Scout felt his face flush at the thought. Fuck, not only had he gone to fuck someone who WASN'T Hardhat, he had gone when the guy would have been passed out. Now he felt even worse! God damnit he had bad timing…

"Oi, Scout. Ya didn't ansah me."

"O-oh… Sniper… I was just checkin' on ya, man… hadn't seen ya for a few days, ya know?" Scout quickly made the excuse, but he was unable to look the older man in the eye. In all truth he didn't even know that the Medic had grabbed him and taken him to the clinic. He doubted that anyone knew. Sniper was always one to do his own thing.

It took a while because of Scout's flinching and dodging questions—("Fuck you, man, you ain't putting that cold shit on my neck—OW FUCK why are you putting a syringe THERE and oh… oh wow… nothing hurts now… Wow, Dawk, how'd ya do that? Are ya fuckin… fuckin magic or something…? Fuckin tired now, man…")—to get him cleaned up and bandaged. Sniper watched the whole time, adding in snide comments on occasion,

"Those love-marks from teeth or a knife, mate?",

"Ya nevah bloody listened before, now ya have an excuse." and of course,

"Check undah his shorts, Medic, ya know… just in case."

Now, Scout would have responded. Fuck, he would have responded. But whatever the Medic had pumped into him was making him drowsy, and he didn't really want to deal with Sniper's nasty comments at the moment. Tomorrow, yes. Now, no. Definitely no. Fuck no.

So, bandages on his ear, ointment around his eye, and several stitches around his shoulders and neck, and Scout was finally ready for bed.

"Do not vorry about zhe Spy's body, Scout. I vill make sure zhat it is taken care of. Now, go and rest. I am sure you have had a long day."

"Thanks, Dawk… really, I appreciate it a lot," Scout smiled at the reassurance as he hopped off of the examination table. He stumbled a little, and Medic caught his elbow to help him balance. He watched Scout toddle off with a somewhat fond expression.

"Have Scout and zhe Engineer been fighting, Sniper?"

"They were just bein' silly at dinnah the other night, that's all I can figyah."

"Ah… It must be frustrating vith a much younger lover," Medic muttered matter-of-factly as he turned back to the Sniper. His usually strong Jaw of Seriousness and Science loosened up as a smile formed across his face.

"I am glad that ve are more mature zhan zhat."

Sniper laughed quietly, nodding.

"Yeah, mate… I think we do pretty well for ourselves. Now bloody kiss me."

"You vill do vell to remember who is zhe boss around here, ja?"

"Shaddap ya wankah…"

----

"Um… Hardhat…?"

Scout was standing in front of the Engineer's bed, looking down at him. Or at least, he thought he was looking down at him. It was fucking pitch black in Hardhat's room, Scout wasn't even sure how he had gotten in there in the first place. Hell, he didn't know how he got the courage to go inside in the first place. But thank God it was dark. Thank fucking God it was dark. He didn't want Hardhat to worry about the (really nice) shiner that he had, or see the cuts and stitches and other bruises all along his shoulders and neck.

The sound of rustling came from in front of Scout.

"Mng… Ya have a bad dream, boah?"

Ouch… no, really… OUCH. Irony hit him in the face, but he kept his cool… sort of.

"Y-yeah… can… can I sleep with you, Hardhat?"

More rustling. Scout could almost see him in the dark, scooting back in the bed to give him room and holding the sheets up for him to crawl under. Scout gratefully climbed into the bed and snuggled up to Engineer so that his back was pressed firmly against the older man's chest. Scout instantly felt better. Everything was okay now; he was with Engie—he was with his Hardhat. As Engineer wrapped a strong arm around Scout's waist, somehow missing any wounds, Scout felt safe and warm and protected. He closed his eyes and snuggled in for a great night's sleep.

"Scout… Ah was thinkin'…" The soft hum of Hardhat's deep voice vibrated in his chest, and his breath hit Scout's bad ear, and he almost winced. But he listened intently.

"Yeah?"

"If… well, shoot. If bein a bit… rougher… when we… ya know… have a romp in the hay… if'n it means that much to ya, well then Ah'm willing to do anything. Even punch ya in the face."

And the Engineer didn't understand why Scout very slowly curled his body against him, or why his shoulders started shaking. Engineer didn't know why Scout was holding his breath to try and stop sobbing. But he did know that Scout was crying, and that's all that mattered.

They spent a good ten minutes curled together, the Engineer suddenly alert to his lover's tears and rubbing his back soothingly. He waited until the boy finally fell asleep, exhausted. Engineer made a promise to himself to give Scout a good time tomorrow.

He would even punch him once or twice.

Very... *very* carefully.


End file.
